


Late Night Surprises

by Ulan



Series: 100 Writing Prompts [1]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: 100 writing prompts, Drunken Confessions, Humor, Lindon, M/M, Second Age, boy in the playground!Erestor, or just plain bad with crushes!Erestor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2019-01-27 23:06:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12592568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ulan/pseuds/Ulan
Summary: Glorfindel makes an amazing discovery: Counsellor Erestor is apparently a bad drunk.(Prompt #10 - "I might have had a few shots.")





	Late Night Surprises

**Author's Note:**

> This is prompt #10 ("I might have had a few shots") on this interesting "100 Writing Prompts" I have up in [my Tumblr](https://glorfindel-of-imladris.tumblr.com/post/166830382154/100-writing-prompts). I am not that confident with prompts actually, but I fell in love with this list and I am hoping it would help me write a few one-shots while I struggle in this hell year I somehow found myself in at work. (Come ooooon, December can't come fast enough!) If there is a particular prompt you'd like to see written, feel free to give me a number! :D

Glorfindel opened his door to an unexpected sight.

"You, my lord, are in for a treat." 

Golden eyebrows rose. Now here was a picture one probably would not expect on any given day. Although it certainly _looked_ like Counsellor Erestor---cold, strict, sometimes tactless Counsellor Erestor---standing in front of Glorfindel's bedroom door at such a late hour, gone were his usual austere robes and high collars, even his straight expressions and cool complexion. Instead, Erestor stood on that hallway in a messily tied sleeping robe and plain slippers, and even with his hair down in a way Glorfindel had never seen him wear it. So alien were such things on him that the whole picture looked almost obscene, especially given the glimpse of a sharp collarbone where those robes fell lopsidedly to one side, and given that there was an easy smile on that fair face as though Erestor knew what thoughts went on in an otherwise confused Glorfindel's mind. 

"I'll bet," was the first thing the reborn Elf ended up saying. He opened his door a little wider and leaned against the frame. "Good evening, Counsellor. You have been out drinking, I see." 

And what a revelation it was, too. Glorfindel had been with Gil-galad's court for a little more than a year now, had met Erestor even on his first day, and in that time he had never known the other to be less than formal and put together. Erestor made quite a first impression and Glorfindel had admittedly been taken by him almost immediately. For one, Glorfindel recognised in him one who walked the kingdoms of old, albeit not Gondolin but definitely one of its neighbours. Erestor had that looked, too, that Glorfindel really liked: dark hair, a handsome face, and intelligent, green eyes nearly intimidating in their sharpness. Coupled with just that inexplicable feeling of instantly liking someone, it was not very long until he was seeking Erestor's friendship, perhaps even in the hopes for it to be a prelude for something more. 

Erestor, unfortunately, had not seemed as keen, and he even appeared to take offense that Glorfindel had been returned to Middle-Earth at all. He was one of those few who were against Glorfindel's assignment in Lindon, claiming that the great kingdom was perfectly capable of defending itself and needed no intervention from the Valar. He was cold to Glorfindel outside of council, too, so that Glorfindel found that mere friendship with the fellow was difficult as it was, much less any hope for anything more than that. 

That was not to say that he stopped trying, but it had not been an easy thing... so far, before... this, anyway. 

"Drinking!" sputtered a glazy eyed Erestor. "Why, the very idea! I will have you know..." He slowly raised a finger and looked about to poke Glorfindel with it, but he tilted back too widely and would have lost his balance had it not been for the other Elf catching him. He went on to speak as if nothing had happened. "Elrond returned from one of his trips and he had this thing--" Erestor made a clumsy gesture with his hands that Glorfindel did not at all understand "--and I... might have had a few shots."

"Shots," repeated Glorfindel, unsure of the word. "Shots of what, exactly?" He had never heard of these things being called in such a manner before. Erestor started swaying again however, and so Glorfindel just sighed and gave up, and just busied himself with steadying his unexpected visitor. "Well, never mind. Perhaps you should come in before anyone else sees you like this." 

Seeing as Erestor did not appear to have any plans of standing on his own feet any time soon, Glorfindel ended up half-supporting, half-dragging him inside his room. How ever little finesse they went about it, Erestor seemed perfectly content, and even hummed and shocked Glorfindel by burying his face on to the poor Elf's neck. 

"Oh, you smell so good," the counsellor _purred_ , lips even pressed against skin, making the other shudder. 

For lack of other things to say, Glorfindel ended up stammering, "Those are just the communal bath oils from the public bath." It was such a stupid answer though that he mentally reprimanded himself the moment it came out. Erestor, though, did not seem to mind.

"Mm." As though his host was not in shock enough, Erestor turned so they were completely face to face, after which he proceeded to unashamedly wrap his arms around Glorfindel's neck. He stepped into the other's space until their fronts were flush together, and even nuzzled at Glorfindel's ear and whispered into it, "Well, they are good on you." 

Glorfindel could not stop the shiver that went through him at the hot breath on his ear. That, however, also effectively had his nerves on edge, for clingy drunks were generally dangerous grounds, especially if said drunk was one whom one unfortunately found attractive. 

He grabbed at Erestor arms and stepped out of them. "Er..." was his intelligent start. 

Erestor stumbled slightly when he was pushed away, which had his face crumpling into a frown. "No?" the counsellor asked, clearly disappointed. 

Glorfindel's mind, in turn, was reeling. "This is surprising," he said. "I thought you hated me."

As though scalded, Erestor pushed off from Glorfindel hard enough so that the other had to take another step back. "Oh, I do!" he exclaimed, to Glorfindel's further surprise, and proceeded to gesticulate... messily, in the middle of Glorfinde's room. "I hated you the moment I laid eyes on you! You with the light of Aman and your charming smile, and you looked so good in those Mithlond robes... you know, I do not know where Círdan even got them, unfashionable as his own robes often tend to be. I have this theory though that you would probably look good even in a torn up sack, but even that is such an annoying thought that it is a wonder I do not throw my wine on your beautiful face every time I see it at supper time."

"Your... definition of 'hate' is quite fascinating, Counsellor."

"It is so unfair!" Erestor went on as though the other had not spoken. "Unfair, my lord, I tell you. I mean, just look at you!" 

Glorfindel, mind lost in utter confusion over these surprising revelations, could only helplessly look down at himself. "What?" 

"Just--" Erestor threw his hands at Glorfindel's general direction. "Eru sure did quite a job on you, didn't he? Typical parent, playing favourites among his children. Look at you, all height and muscle and... and glorious, golden hair."

It was so ridiculous that Glorfindel could not help it; he snorted. "Really?"

"Does your hair curl like that naturally?"

The confused expression was back on the returned Elf's face. "How else would they curl?"

"And look at these!" With wide eyes and grabby hands, Erestor jumped into Glorfindel's space again and started feeling up his arms, poking and pushing clumsily at the biceps. "Just look at these! Oh, they are as hard as I imagined."

"That you even imagined them at all, Erestor--"

"And your chest! These pecs!" The counsellor suddenly, _shamelessly_ , grabbed Glorfindel's chest with both hands and _squeezed_.

"Erestor!"

"You also have these strong thighs that I could just... oh, Glorfindel, I could climb on you right now and--"

And there the counsellor's ridiculous tirade was promptly cut off as a hand was slapped on to his mouth, effectively muffling his speech. He blinked---seemingly innocent as can be---at Glorfindel, who thought he must be blushing furiously now up to the roots of his hair.

"That's enough, I think," said the old lord, out of breath and ridiculously embarrassed. "Valar." 

Erestor mumbled something behind Glorfindel's hand, but so covered was his mouth that it was hardly intelligible. But those green eyes were telling, hooded but sparkling under the shadow of the adviser's dark bangs, and in that moment, Glorfindel _knew_ that he could survive the evening better not knowing what the other had just said. 

He took a deep, shuddering breath. "You are a surprisingly... lewd drunk." 

Cool fingers touched Glorfindel's heated hand and easily peeled it off Erestor's mouth. Thoughtfully and easily, as though he was not borderline sexually harassing a colleague, Erestor said, "Come to think of it, there are reasons why I do not drink often." 

"They are good reasons, I see that now." Glorfindel shook his head and steadied himself by placing both hands on Erestor's shoulder. It at least also conveniently kept the other at arm's length. "What a predicament, but now that you are here, I cannot, in good conscience, allow you to wander outside on your own. What ever am I going to do with you, Counsellor?" 

The suggestive gaze returned, and Erestor even gave Glorfindel a drunken wink. "Oh, my lord, the things you _can_ do with me..."

And all right, Glorfindel could admit that, one: that was still a good wink, and two: he perhaps did walk into that one.

Against his will, his mind was assaulted by a distressing array of things he _did_ apparently want to do with this foolish Elf. From the very beginning, he knew he was interested in Erestor, and it was only the other's seeming dislike of him that deterred him from pursuing him immediately in the first place. But with Erestor like this, playful and inviting and even with a charming flush (of the stupidly drunk, Glorfindel's mind unhelpfully supplied) high on his cheeks, it was so easy to entertain those daydreams Glorfindel used to have. 

What would it indeed be like, he wondered, to be able to kiss those red lips, to be able to grab at that slim, tight robe-covered waist and _push_ Erestor back against a wall, which was a thought Glorfindel entertained most often in council whenever the other insisted on arguing against every point Glorfindel raised. He wondered what it would be like to able to push Erestor on to the floor, to pin him down, to taste his lips and everywhere else that Glorfindel's tongue could reach. Would his voice---smooth and deep and sinful enough even in the middle of a self-righteous tirade---treat Glorfindel with sweet moans were he to bite that swan's neck, were he to grab at that tight rear that swayed so invitingly when Erestor walked?

So much dislike thrown at Glorfindel, and he never really understood why. To think that it was possible that Erestor was actually so focused on him because of this, probably some inexplicable, guilty desire for a colleague, which honestly was not all that rare as far as Glorfindel knew. Surely, such things were allowed, especially in a court so lenient as Lindon. Bullying and pigtail-pulling... what were they anyway, boys of twenty? 

Glorfindel's silence seemed to bother Erestor, or bore him in any case, for next he was sliding his fingers up those arms holding him back again, his touch light and tickling Glorfindel beneath the fabric of his robes. Those hands went under Glorfindel's arms and slithered up his chest, his shoulders, slid further to rest clasped upon his nape, until Erestor was comfortably pressed up against Glorfindel's front again, arms hanging off of him, and with his face so temptingly close. 

"Oh," sighed the counsellor. The fingers he was burying slowly into Glorfindel's hair was causing shivers to run through the other. "If you are truly so perfect, then this could only promise to be equally so."

Glorfindel was instantly wary. "This?" 

"Your kiss." 

And then there were lips pressed against his, bold and insistent and with that sharp and heady scent and taste of whatever it was Erestor imbibed that evening. It seemed strong indeed, because for a moment Glorfindel feared that it was strong enough to influence him like this, for it was easy enough for Erestor to get him to part his lips, to deepen the kiss. Far too quickly did Glorfindel find himself succumbing, surrendering to the sweetness of that embrace. Erestor was warm and the shape of him felt as perfect beneath his tingling hands as Glorfindel had imagined, and it was amazing how, even inebriated, Erestor could still kiss so well---or that could just be Glorfindel's infatuation talking. 

Time seemed to slow, as was its wont in moments so glazed and heated by lust. Glorfindel felt that kiss up to the tips of his fingers, which wrapped and curled against the silk falling down Erestor's back. He could taste the sweetness in Erestor's tongue so that his own seemed to water, for having known him this long, so much did he admire him for more things now beyond beauty. He truly did like Erestor, liked the things he talked about when he was not busy lambasting Glorfindel in his free time, liked the glimpses of his more gentler side when Glorfindel would catch him with his younger staff without Erestor knowing he was being observed. These fond sentiments were things Glorfindel had had to keep at bay in respect for Erestor's opinion of him, but oh, how they poured forth from him now, given this one indulgent moment that Erestor instigated. 

Glorfindel's daze was sharply woken though when Erestor pressed up against him even further, in a way that was more... suggestive than before. Another surprised shudder coursed through Glorfindel again, and he broke the kiss. 

"Whoa." Once again he found himself pushing Erestor to remain at arm's length. He shook his head to clear it. "Right. Please, uh... hold it right there, Erestor." 

Erestor frowned at this. "Why not? It did not feel as if you were uninterested, and you cannot tell me that kiss was non-consensual."

Glorfindel winced. "Debatable, but besides that..." He heaved a heavy sigh. "Kissing is one thing, Counsellor, but I know that neither you nor I are likely to live it down were anything to happen with you... like this." 

He gestured at Erestor's flushed and clearly still inebriated state. Glorfindel frowned at him in turn, briefly entertaining that speaking of things that were unfair, it was so like Erestor to pull the rug out of Glorfindel in this way, so to speak. Truly, it was almost always a joyful occasion to know that one's romantic regard was returned, but for things to progress beyond this when one party was not in control of his full faculties was never the right course of things, despite what one's inebriated but still admired other claimed. 

Really, this Elf was such a bastard.

"You are a piece of work. I have half a mind not to let you off lightly, for this sort of behaviour ought to be punished so you learn your lesson." 

It was useless reasoning with a drunk, however, which Erestor reminded Glorfindel of by smiling and nearly swooning in his arms. Fingers slid inside Glorfindel's sleeves and brushed suggestively against his wrists. " _Oh_. Yes, please." 

Arousal shot mercilessly through Glorfindel once again at yet another glimpse of what Erestor could apparently allow. Pushed against walls, tied to high-back chairs or even Glorfindel's own bed posts, over his lap with red and tender skin under his heated palm-- he groaned, Erestor effectively pushing him further to his wit's end. "Behave, you," he all but growled, and this time it was he who initiated the kiss, biting and desperate and pulling Erestor tight against a hard body, wrenching a moan out from the dark-haired adviser. 

But as quickly as the passion burst, so also did it wane. Glorfindel was at least fond of Erestor enough to maintain his earlier conviction, and he slowed down, led them to gentler kisses and more tender touches. Erestor was at least still seemingly an easy study, for obediently he followed Glorfindel's lead, melting into the kiss that flowed slowly now like honey, filling with whimpered moans and shared breaths and sweet, _sweet_ pecks before parting.

"You can have me," Erestor whispered, insistent, and with the sigh of one dazed.

Glorfindel, too, sighed and rested his forehead against Erestor's. He tried to catch his breath, feeling utterly tired and stretched. "Nay, you fool. And do not think you are so easily forgiven, pulling this kind of thing." Belying his words, however, he pulled back to fondly look at Erestor, his fingers even brushing back dark hair away from that fair face. "Perhaps on the morrow, when your wits have returned." A thought suddenly occured to him, and he added, "Although, could I... perhaps get all this in writing?" 

That dark head tilted to one side in an adorable expression of confusion, and Glorfindel snorted out a laugh.

"Something along the lines of, 'I, Erestor of Lindon, do hereby attest that on this night, under the influence of spirits, did knock upon Glorfindel's door and proceeded to commit acts upon his person I otherwise would not consider doing had I been in full possession of my faculties. I, however, further confirm that no unsavoury business occured, and that Glorfindel was in fact quite the gentleman, and cared for me in exchange of a meaningful conversation he would then charge me in the morning.'" 

Erestor's face crumpled and he clutched at his head. "That was so long, I cannot even remember the beginning anymore."

"I shall write it and you can just sign your name." 

"A splendid idea. See, this is why I like you." 

Glorfindel could not help but snort again, but at the same he felt his stomach flutter in that tell-tale embarrassing way. He supposed that was explicit confirmation if he ever received any from this foolish Elf. He shook his head, and for lack of better things to do, pulled at the collars of Erestor's night robes so they wrapped more tightly and neatly around the other, covering more skin. "I wish you would still say that when you are sober," he said as he moved to fix the ties around Erestor's waist. "For now, you better sleep this off."

"Oh, your bed!" 

Suddenly regaining energy, Erestor turned to Glorfindel's bed and all but jumped on to it. He fell upon one side of the down bed with about as much grace as a sack of potatoes, and then just lied there, still and silent. 

Then, he groaned. "Oh, the world is spinning. I hate this feeling."

Glorfindel watched him, part exasperated, part amused, and perhaps a little bit more fond than he had been prior to this hour. He was certainly seeing the other Elf in a new light---a more entertaining and so much better light---and for whatever reason it was, a load in his chest seemed to ease. 

He approached the bed and peered down at the Elf upon it. He brushed the back of his fingers carefully on one side of that still flushed face half-buried in his white pillows. "Do you need anything? Water maybe?" he kindly offered.

Erestor frowned and moaned at the touch, a sound of mixed comfort and distress. He did not even open his eyes, and Glorfindel wondered exactly how drunk the other was if he needed to sleep this way, unmoving and with his eyes closed. He let Erestor get to it though, and asleep the other soon was, quiet and limp on top of Glorfindel's bed, so that even when the blankets were pulled from beneath him and subsequently wrapped around him, he still did not wake.

Glorfindel watched him a little longer, crouched beside the bed and wondering what sort of madness he found himself in. Likely it would be an even bigger, more problematic sort of madness come morning, and although his earlier suggestion of a written statement was said in jest, he somewhat regretted not being able to procure that form of protection for himself from the other's inevitable wrath.

Then again, part of Glorfindel looked forward to that encounter, especially now that he knew that Erestor did have a lighter side to him underneath all that bravado and propensity to snap and criticise. Glorfindel knew the secret behind those, too, for now it was clear that it was an age-old tactic of pushing away one's... whatever one could call it. 

He chuckled again, shook his head, and proceeded to do whatever it was that people did when they discover that the focus of their admiration was apparently a foolish child. Glorfindel, however, had an entire evening to turn over this not wholly unwelcome revelation in his mind. At the very least, his new life in Middle-Earth just suddenly became more interesting.

\- fin -


End file.
